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guide her up the steps.

"Miss. Stuart, our most sincere condolences on the loss of your uncle,

but may I say that we are heartily glad that you have survived to be

here today," "Thank you," Tess said. It was strange. It already seemed

like the whole thing had happened in the distant past. Days on the

plains could do that, she decided. And yet, when the colonel spoke so

solicitously of Uncle Joe, all the pain and the loneliness rushed back.

She tried to swallow them down. She needed to impress this man with

intelligence and determination, not a fit of tears. She didn't want to

be patted on the back. She wanted to be believed.

"Miss. Stuart, if you would be so good as to join us inside, the colonel

would like to speak with you," Slater said.

There was a startling light in his eyes as they touched her. Not

amusement, but something else. Almost a challenge. He wanted to see if

she would back down, she thought. Well, she wouldn't.

She walked past both men and into a large office with file cabinets and

a massive desk and a multitude of crude wooden chairs. Slater pulled out

a chair for her, and she sat down as regally as she could manage,

pulling off her rough leather gloves and letting them fall into her lap.

She felt Slater's eyes, and she looked up then looked quickly away.

He had seen the blisters and calluses on her hands. The colonel took his

seat behind the desk. He was an elderly man, whose gentle blue eyes

seemed to belie his position as a commander of such a post. His voice,

too, was gentle. Tess thought he was genuinely grateful to see her

alive, even if he had never met her before.

"Would you like coffee, Miss. Stuart? I'm afraid I've no tea to offer

you" -- "Coffee will be just fine, thank you," Tess said.

She hadn't realized that there was another man in the room unt'd a

s'dent young corporal stepped forward to bring her a tin mug of black

coffee. She thanked him and an awkward moment followed. Then the colonel

sat forward, folding his hands on the desk.

"Miss. Stuart, Lieutenant Slater informs me that you have claimed that

it was not Indians who set upon your band."

"That's right, sir."

"Then who?"

"White men. Hired guns for a man named yon Heusen. He is trying to take

my uncle's property and" -- "He'd have men attack a whole wagon train to

obtain your uncle's property? Think now, Miss. Stuart, is that logical?"

She gritted her teeth. Slater was watching her politely. She wanted to

kick him.

"It wasn't a large wagon train, Colonel.

We've had good relations with the Comanche in our area, and my uncle

wasn't afraid of the Comanche! We were traveling with a very small

party, a few hired hands, my uncle-"

" Maybe, Miss. Stuart, the Indians weren't Comanche.

Maybe they were a stray band of Apache looking for easy prey, or

Shoshone down from the mountains, or maybe even an offshoot of the

Sioux"--" No Indian attacked that wagon train."

Tess swung around. Jon Red Feather had come into the room. He helped

himself to coffee, then pulled up the chair beside Slater. He grinned at

his friend, then addressed the colonel.

"I'm sure that Miss. Stuart does know a Comanche when she sees one, sir.

And it wasn't Apache. Apache usually only scalp Mexicans--in

retaliation." He turned and smiled at Tess.

"And I can promise you that what was done was not done by the Sioux. A

Sioux would never have left Miss. Stuart behind."

A shiver ran down Tess's spine. She didn't know if Jon meant that the

Sioux would have taken her with them--or that they would have been sure

to kill and scalp her, too. The colonel lifted his hands. Even with Jori

corroborating her story, he didn't seem to believe her. Or if he did

believe her, he had no intention of helping her.

"Miss. Stuart, I have heard of this von Heusen. He has big money, and

big connections, and I understand he owns half the town" -- "Literally,

Colonel.

He owns the judge and the sheriff and the deputies."

"Now, Miss. Stuart, those are frightful charges" -- "They are true

charges."

"But don't you see, Miss. Stuart, you'd have to go into a court of law

against this man. And you'd have to charge him in Wiltshire, and like

you said ..." His voice trailed away. "Why don't you think of heading

back east, Miss. Stuart?"

She was up on her feet instantly.

"Head back east? I have never been east, Colonel. I was born here in

Texas.

My grandparents helped found Wiltshire. And the little bit of town that

yon Heusen doesn't own yeti still do. I have no intention of turning it

over to him! Colonel, there's nothing else that I can tell you. I have

had a rather trying few days. If there's some place where I might rest,

I'll be most grateful to accept your hospitality for a night or two.

Then, sir, I have to get home. I have a ranch and a paper that need my

expertise."

The colonel was on his feet, too, and she sensed that, behind her, Jon

and Slater had also risen. She spun around, feeling Slater's eyes,

certain that he was laughing at her again.

But he wasn't laughing. His eyes were upon her, smoky and gray and

enigmatic. She sensed that she had finally gained a certain admiration

from him. What good it could do her, she didn't know. The colonel had

been her last hope.

Now the battle was hers, and hers alone.

"Miss. Stuart, I'd like to help you if I could"

"Nonsense, Colonel. You don't believe a word I'm saying," Tess told him

sweetly.

"That's your prerogative, sir. I am very fatigued ..."

"Miss. Stuart can take the old Casey place while she's here," Jori said.

"Doily Simmons is there now, with linens and towels."

"I shall be most grateful to the Caseys," Tess said. "No need," Slater

drawled.

"Casey is dead. Caught a Comanche arrow last year. His wife went on hack

east." He was taunting her, and she smiled despite it.

"I have told you all, Lieutenant, I've never been east" -- "Oh, not that

east, Miss. Stuart. Mrs. Casey and the kids went to live in Houston,

that's all."

"Well, I rather like the area I live in," she said sweetly, then she

turned to the colonel.

"If I may, sir ... 7"

"Of course, of course! Jamie, you and Jon will please escort the young

lady to her quarters. And Mis~ Stuart, if it's Wiltshire you're

insisting on reaching, I'll arrange you an escort just as soon as

possible."

"Thank you."

Jon opened the door. Tess sailed through it. Slater followed her.

"It's this way, Tess," Jon told her. He'd never used her first name

before, and certainly not as he did now, intimately, as if they were old

friends.

There was a bright light to his striking green eyes, and she realized

that it was for the benefit of Jamie Slater. Jamie. Silently, she rolled

the name on her tongue.

"Lieutenant" seemed to fit him better.

Not always . Not that day he had looked down at her on the rocks after

shooting the snake. His hair had been ruffled, his shirt had fallen

open, and she had wanted to touch him, to reach out and feel the vital

movement of his flesh, so bronze beneath the setting sun. Then, then the

name Jamie might have fit him just fight. It was an intimate name, ,a

name for friends, or for lovers.

He was behind her still. Jon Red Feather was pointing things out to her.

"That's a general store, and there's our one and only alehouse, we don't

dare call it a saloon. And down there is the coffeehouse for the ladies.

We've a number of women at the fort here. The colonel approves of the

married men having their wives with them, and since the fort is strong